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27. Your child is seriously ill

WARNING: sad.



Your child is seriously ill

Louis: "It's okay dad, it won't hurt," your 14 years old daughter said smiling through her tears. Louis laid on her bed, stroking her brown hair gently, tears on his cheeks. The hospital was quiet around you, everyone else were gone except you. They let you stay; knowing what was going to happen. "We love you baby," You whispered, smiling sadly on her other side. She was laying between you, just like she used to when she was a little kid. Weak fingers tangled around your strong ones, when he breathed heavily, tears on her cheeks. "I love you too," She whispered, looking at her dad. Louis looked at his daughter, proud filling his blue eyes. She was his daughter, true Tomlinson. She didn't give up, even when she was told the bad news. She was brave like Louis and sassy too. "Dad, stop crying," She said smiling again, "I want you to sing to me, like you used to sing me sleep. Can you do it? Just one more time?"

Zayn: He kept his small body on his arms, holding tight when doctor pressed another needle to your son's skin. He squealed a little when his blood started to run to bottles, but his eyes never left his dad's. "Is it true that the red power ranger is best?"his small voice echoed in the white room. Zayn chuckled, kissing the top of his son's head, making the five years old giggle. "No, you can choose what you think is the best," Zayn said gently, looking at his beautiful son with his brown eyes. Your son smiled, looking just like Zayn. "I like the yellow one. What about you mommy?" he asked, shutting his little brown eyes, when the doctor stick another needle to his small arm. "I like the pink one," you answered, trying to smile, even when you could see, how much in pain he was. "I knew you'd say that," he said smiling, when few tears rolled down his cheeks. Zayn caught them with his palm, shushing his little son. "It's okay, bud, they're just taking some blood to make sure you're ok," he hummed to his ear, looking at you concerned. "Why do they keep taking it over and over again? I'm never okay. I just want to go home, please mom?" he whined, making your heart break. "We'll see, sweetie, we'll see..."

Harry: "Mom! Dad! Wake up! MOOOM!" your seven years old son screamed to your ear, making you jump off your bed. "What is it?" you asked voice hoarse. You knew it was something bad; your heart was racing so quickly. "Her nose is bleeding to her bed again, and I can't make it stop," he screamed, showing his bloody hands, green eyes widen of fear. Harry jumped out of the bed, running to your daughter's room, you right behind him. She was sitting in her pink princess bed, trying to stop her nosebleed with her hands. "Sweetheart," Harry cooed, taking a box of tissues, pressing one of them to his daughter's nose. "It's gonna be okay, love, we're here now," you said, trying to smile, when you were breaking again. "I hate leekmenia," she said quietly, when tears rolled down her cheeks. "It's leukemia, honey, and I know you do. We do too," Harry said quietly, cuddling next to his daughter. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, when you tried to cover your face with your hands. "Don't cry mom," your small daughter whispered, pressing her teddy bear against her chest, "Daddy's here to protect me." 



Liam: You smiled, when a tiny hand wrapped around your finger tightly. He was so small, so tiny it was hard to believe. His small head was covered by a blue bonnet what Karen made for
him. It was way too big to his head, covering his eyes, making him look even smaller. You leaned to the incubator, staring at his tiny figure. He stretched his arms and legs when he yawned, not making any noise. Different kind of tubes filled his skin and nose, but he was still so beautiful. "Hi buddy, it's daddy! Hi! How are you today big boy?" Liam cooed next to you, taking his son's hand to his. It was barely size of his fingertip. "He's so strong," you whispered, looking down to see how he tried to open his eyes, even when they were taped close. "He's true Payne," Liam said proudly, stroking his small cheek. The room around you was filled with prematurely born babies' noises and cries. Your son didn't cry. He just lay in his bed, holding your finger in his hand. "You are strong baby boy, aren't you?" you cooed, smiling at your son, when Liam wrapped his hand around you, "He's going to be the strongest kid in the world when we can take him home. I promise."

Niall: He laid in a hospital bed, cuddling his small daughter. "And then I promised to mommy, that we can go to picnic when you heal, and we'll go to the beach where the sky is as blue as our eyes. We can do sand castles and collect mussels as much as you want. And daddy's going to teach you to swim and play guitar like you asked. How does that sound darlin'?" Your five years old daughter smiled tiredly to her dad's chest, biting her blue lower lip. Her eyes glided close again, long eyelashes resting on her sweaty skin. "Promise?" she whispered quietly, making your eyes tear again. "We promise," you said through your tears, kissing your daughter's sweaty forehead. "Daddy, I'm so tired," your daughter breathed, closing her eyes, when her grip of her dad's shirt eased. "I know darlin' but remember what I said. A long beach where's blue sky and loads of sand. We'll take uncles with us and we'll eat and eat until we can't even swim. When you're tired, I'll wrap you to your pink towel and hold you close and sing until you sleep..," tears rolled down Niall's cheeks, when your daughter smiled, taking her last breath, closing her eyes. "Sleep well princess, mommy and daddy's gonna keep you safe."